


Something bad.

by Idjit_01



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Rowena MacLeod/Sam Winchester, Paranoia, Post-Season/Series 15, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Wayward Daughters (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:22:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25948036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idjit_01/pseuds/Idjit_01
Summary: After Chuck's death and the Empty been dealt with, Dean and Cas confess their feelings to each other and start dating.As everything goes well for a while Dean feels on edge, as never before in his life have long periods of time gone by without an apocalypse starting or other threats menacing their lifes as they know them.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Something bad.

Dean is laying on his room in the bunker when it happens. Sam's out "helping Rowena with some new spell she was developing" he said, but obviously _helping_ her with something way dirtier and unthinkable. Jack's spending the weekend with the girls —Claire, Kaia, Alex and Patience— in Jody's cabin -something about bonding and friendship and braiding each other's hair.

Castiel's over for the first time in weeks. It's their first date since they confessed their feelings to each other when Chuck died. They were lucky. The Empty had fallen asleep again after that and hadn't gotten back for Castiel, so the huge fight that took place when Dean found out about the deal died pretty quickly —it even fueled their _relationship_ further, _if you know what I'm saying_.

The nightmares hadn't subsided, though, so not everything was fun again. Dean had felt the paranoia creeping up for weeks and had gotten back to some not-very-healthy coping mechanisms to deal with it. Because happiness, relief and the lack of threats never stayed for long for the Winchesters and Dean felt like every fly he run into or every long night actually sleeping were going to detonate the next apocalypse.

So Cas and Dean had the bunker for themselves. Dean had thought that, well, maybe the problems would be in their relationship and there was going to be the other shoe that he was waiting to drop. Maybe this time the grief would only affect him and not the rest of the world.

He had been restless in preparation. Nervous and sweaty, every awful possible scenario running through his mind. 

But then nothing had happened. Cas had come over —in his signature trenchcoat and suit, of course, that was not just his clothing choice until all their obstacles were over—. He had brought apple pie from that place Dean loves near Wyoming and Dean had _not_ blushed, not at all. They had had burgers with fries on the hood of his Baby —his '67 Impala that he had had to restore over and over again due to Chuck's shenanigans.

Dean's stomach had been feeling good and weird and awful all at the same time, because everything was good and therefore he just felt bad —not just because something bad was bound to happen, but also because he didn't deserve _good_. 

Cas had stared at him —but what's new, Cas always stared— but when Dean didn't answer —he couldn't hear him over the crushing buzzing in his ears— his sparkling eyes had turned into a concerned searching glare and he had tried to reach Dean with his grace to find out what was wrong with him.

Dean, as smooth as an elephant riding a bike, had responded in the only logical way and sealed his lips with Cas in a breath-taking kiss. Knowing it wouldn't be enough —because it was Cas— and also maybe, _just maybe_ hungry for more, had slid his tongue into Cas's mouth and gripped gently but firmly at Cas's hair as if he feared Cas would leave again and he couldn't handle that.

When he felt Cas's hands settle on his ass, though, it was like a light switch. His stomach twisted with excitement and when he noticed that he felt as if he was jolted awake into self-consciousness and dread. 

He backed out of the kiss, chuckled awkwardly —though Cas obviously knew something _was_ wrong now, as his furrowed brow and tilted head indicated— said 'night and tensely power walked to the bathroom.

He had drowned his thoughts —washed his face thoroughly— for a few minutes, cringed at his flushed reflection and hid in his room. There was no alcohol left —because of course there wouldn't when he needed it most— and he was not going to have wine even if he got everyone he had lost back for it. His phone was dead, so music was out of the table. He needed to do something —something _bad_ —, something to take the edge off. 

But he wouldn't cut —Cas would know—, he wouldn't punch something —he had just finished cleaning— and he wouldn't make himself throw up —he didn't have an excuse to get away with it and he's not a chick in his teens.

So he had just layed there, under the covers, pretending not to exist.

Dean is still awake when Cas comes around and knocks at his door. Dean doesn't listen to him, although he knows he's saying something. He just doesn't deal with him. Things can't be good. They just _can't_. 

He stays there, conscious of Cas's glare and grateful he isn't using his grace to get it out of him. He doesn't want Cas to find out about this bone-deep itch he's having, this fear of _anything_ happening and need to just so something to get it over with. Maybe if he does something bad, that all the awful that will happen and nothing else will suddenly hurt everyone he cares about.

He feels Cas turning to leave and somehow that sends a sharp jolt of pain to his chest. 

"Cas..." Dean says, in that tone he deserved for highly emotional situations, those in which he feels especially desperate, like when Cas was going to kill him and he revealed his need for him.

Cas caresses the palm he's extending towards him and lies behind him. He shifts for a few minutes, uncomfortable, until he settles in hugging Dean through his middle, cuddling him.

Dean squeals but otherwise doesn't protest.

When he finally feels himself growing comfortable in Cas's arms he moves forward, pressing towards Cas's arms. They put pressure right over his stomach. He feels the bike coming up and he welcomes it. He feels that everything will be okay if he throws up, and that if ihe can play it off as an accident because Cas presses to hard on his abdomen, he doesn't need to justify giving in to such a girly move.

Almost at the time this thought fleets over him, Cas's arms disappear as if Dean was made of holy fire. Dean whines. Cas grunts. 

"Dean..." He grumbles, in a pitiful voice. 

Dean snuggles back into Cas's space with a pounding headache —how had he not noticed it before?— and closed his eyes. He's trembling, his breaths leaving him unsteadily.

"Just... Don't leave." He spits out between struggling inhales and exhales. 

"Dean..." Cas starts again.

Dean shushes him and curls into himself, almost trying to disappear. Cas leans forward understanding Dean's need for comfort. He leaves his lips brushing on the place where his neck and his shoulder meet and presses himself into Dean, carefully avoiding his stomach.

"Later." Cas promises, or threatens; Dean isn't sure. Dean closes his eyes forcefully. 

Dean is laying in his room when it happens. He's the bad thing he's waiting to happen and he's scared —he'll say it's prudence, he's not going to be _afraid_ of the invisible—. At least Cas is there —to hold him or stop him, who knows. But now it can wait. Cas can _watch over him_ while he rests and they'll just figure it out later.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo another hurt/comfort thingy because I need it badly whilst laying at 5am after overeating seven hours earlier.
> 
> I hope it doesn't disappoint. Feel free to share your thoughts about it~


End file.
